


surrounded by your embrace

by tiptoe39



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, Please be nice, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, boys in the basement, first fic in this fandom, i actually looked up beyonce lyrics for the title, the july 4th trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-28 00:20:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6306223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiptoe39/pseuds/tiptoe39
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boys doing things in the basement in July.</p>
            </blockquote>





	surrounded by your embrace

**Author's Note:**

> The fantastic [mistyzeo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mistyzeo/pseuds/mistyzeo) and [dedougal](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dedougal/pseuds/dedougal) were kind enough to beta this, and if this fic looks anything at all like I know these characters, it's because of them. 
> 
> My virgin offering to this fandom, more or less. Please enjoy.

**surrounded by your embrace**

They're watching a movie in the Bittle family basement, not because it's private but because it's cool there, beneath the swell of the July heat. Mama probably thinks they're making out at every instant of privacy, but really, it's been no more than a few careful kisses. What's between them is still so new and tender, and Eric doesn't want to rush it. He doesn't want to scare Jack away.

So he sits on the floor as Jack relaxes in the armchair behind them, and they watch a movie. Just Jack's presence near him is so heady. Eric is aware of Jack's breathing, the casual way he's draped over the chair. The way one of his legs is crossed loosely over the other. Jack is wearing shorts today, and his legs have been distracting as hell. If Eric were to turn, he could touch them. Run his hands down their hard columns, rise to his feet, lean over Jack's chair and steal a kiss. He could drop into Jack's lap, press against him, kiss his hair and the lines of his face. The possibilities are distracting, and Eric fights to keep his attention on the movie.

His mother calls downstairs. "Dicky, your father and I are going to go out for a while. Have a drink over at the Johnsons'. You two will be all right?"

Eric has to shake himself free of his imagining. "We'll be fine, Mama, thanks." No doubt she thinks they're up to no good down here. If only. Jack's his cautious, shy self, and it's killing Eric a little.

The sound of the door closing, the rev of the car's motor, and the house falls into stillness above them. The people in the movie are babbling, and Eric tries hard to pay attention to them. Someone in this movie's looking for their brother, who left home to make his way in Hollywood, and he might have gotten into some trouble, and now there's a drug dealer hunting him down too, and somehow a few cops are involved, and oh dear gosh Eric has no idea which end is up because he's alone in the house with Jack.

He's gotta make a move. He's gonna make a move, just in a moment, maybe he'll get up and sit on the arm of the chair, just so they're closer. He just has to get up the courage. Where's his courage? Jack kissed _him_. And again, when he arrived in Madison, though that time it was more like they fell into each other. Eric can still feel the pressure of Jack's lips against his, the warmth of Jack's hand on his face. His heart flutters just remembering it. Is he greedy, to want more than that? Maybe he should just restrain himself. It's still early in whatever this is between them, and they've got time...

...And oh God Jack has just eased forward and dropped to the floor behind him.

A shock of heat flies through Eric's body. Jack's legs have spread on either side of him, and Eric's abruptly tucked between them, hips snug against Jack's thighs. Just like that, in a single movement. Does Jack even know what he's doing? How intimate this feels? Eric's pulse is racing, and he bites down the noise that's fighting to make its way from his throat. Be cool, Bitty. Don't overreact.

Jack's hand settles on Eric's arm, then slides down to the back of his hand. Eric's breath hitches. His gaze flickers down to catch a glimpse of Jack's hand, big and long-fingered, covering his. Jack's thumb strokes along the line of Eric's index finger. It's all done so casually, so naturally. Like it's no big deal. Eric's pulse is flying in his throat, but he tries to stay still.

Jack's other hand lands on his waist and curls there warmly.

Eric bites his lip. Oh, goodness, he should say something. Do something. Or should he? Is this just Jack's way to show casual affection? Like when the guys slump on each other's shoulders and sort of nuzzle when it's late and they're all a little toasted? Maybe Eric's weird, to get this excited about just the soft touch of gentle fingers...

Which are now snaking beneath his T-shirt. Touching his skin, pressing snug against his waist, hot palm and sure fingers. And there's breath, hot breath, on the back of his neck.

Eric can't help making a noise now, but it's the softest of sighs. He leans back, trying to relax, to just act natural. His shoulders touch Jack's chest, and he settles there. Jack's breath buffets against his shoulder and neck. It's comfortable, being here and being this close, and maybe if they did this all the time Eric would be able to just enjoy it, but it's so new. Too new. His blood is racing through his body, and everywhere Jack touches him he feels it like electricity skipping across his skin

Fingers slide across his waist to his stomach. Eric's holding his breath. Jack flips Eric’s hand over and starts thumbing absently at his wrist. He has to be able to feel the racing of Eric's pulse now. Eric's breaths come short. The characters on the TV screen are an indistinct jumble of voices, and they might as well be a mile away.

"Jack," he says, the word mostly breath.

"Mm." The sound's an acknowledgment Eric's been heard, nothing else. Jack breathes against his ear. Every exhalation sends a new thrill shooting down Eric's spine. Eric squirms a little, butt wiggling between Jack's thighs.

 _Oh God._ Did he just feel -- against his ass -- just behind him, just now, is that Jack's...

Lips against his ear, opening, and golden heat pours through Eric in a flood as Jack takes the earlobe into his mouth and sucks gently.

"Ohmygosh, Jack," Eric blurts out.

Jack makes another hum of acknowledgment and keeps sucking at his ear, tongue flickering over the soft lobe.

Eric gasps for air. He's got heat and chills spilling down through his body in waves, and he can only manage short breaths. Jack licks up the shell of his ear, presses a kiss to his hairline just behind, then to his neck just below. Okay, this isn't casual anymore, not even a little bit. Jack's fingers are stroking him, Jack's mouth is on his skin, and Eric is going to just go up in flames and be reduced to ash any minute now.

When Jack's hand drops from his stomach, Eric thinks he's going to get a respite. It's a thought that lasts for a quarter of a second, then is crushed beneath the wave of electricity that surges through his body when Jack's hand falls to the tented front of his jeans.

Eric says a word he doesn't say very often.

Jack chuckles - chuckles, damn him - and his mouth moves down Eric's neck. Hot wetness against Eric’s skin, blooming patches of sensation that make him tingle all over. He reaches out and grabs at Jack's thighs, holding on for dear life.

That sensation as Jack's hips move against his ass -- that's _exactly_ what Eric thought it was, isn't it, and that little sound against his neck was almost like a groan. Eric's dizzy, lit up in a thousand different places. His head tips back, and a noise escapes his mouth, untamed and uncontrollable.

In response, Jack goes from brushing to massaging the front of Eric's jeans. They're unambiguous touches -- hot and deliberate and sure. Eric finds himself bucking into the touch, hips rocking forward. Jack eases his other hand under Eric's T-shirt, stroking his stomach, now traveling up to his chest and brushing against one peaked nipple. Eric moans aloud, not even caring anymore if he sounds foolish or inexperienced. His whole body is tuned to the moment, the reality of Jack touching him.

"Bitty," Jack's voice, Jack is talking, how in the world can he make _words_ right now? "I want to..." His fingers tease at the button of Eric's fly. "Can I..."

Eric opens his mouth and oh, that's how you make words, they just tumble out in the dozens. "Whatever you want to do, yes, you can do it, Jack, you're driving me _crazy_ ," he hears himself say.

Jack smiles against his skin. "Good," he says, "that's the point."

He devotes both hands to undoing Eric's fly, then, as Eric shifts onto his knees, easing his jeans and briefs down over his thighs. All the years Eric's sat on this shag carpet watching cartoons on Saturday mornings he's never done it bare-assed, and it's a brand-new sensation, dirty and delicious in a way he couldn't have imagined.

When Jack takes his cock in hand and strokes upward, firmly, Eric makes a noise he's never made before in his life. He didn't even think he _could_ make that noise.

He twists to the side and cranes his neck. "Jack," he says, gulps in more air, "kiss me, Jack." Jack does, taking his lips in a sudden hard movement. Jack's mouth on his mouth and Jack's hand on his cock is almost too much, and Eric rocks upward, hard, cock dragging heavy and hot into the tunnel of Jack's fingers.

Jack licks into his mouth, his tongue bold and demanding. When Eric squirms now he can feel Jack's erection, plain as day, straining against Eric's ass. He groans into Jack's mouth, meets Jack's tongue with his, shuddering hard. He's getting stroked, maddening warm strokes of Jack's amazing soft hands, and Jack's kissing him and making noises into the kiss like _he's_ the one getting all the attention. He's not. He's' not getting any attention at all. Eric is being selfish. He should do something, he needs to do something, he can't let Jack do all the work and get nothing out of it. He twists his shoulders harder, tries to turn in Jack's grasp to face him.

But Jack holds him in place. "No," he murmurs against Eric's mouth, "No, let me do this." His voice is soft, but firm.

"Why," he tries to say, but the syllable comes out cracked. He whimpers and untwists his body, leaning back into Jack's embrace and closing his eyes. His hands on Jack's thighs tighten, fingernails leaving marks, he's sure of it. Jack's stroking him steadily and kissing his neck again, and Eric's breathless, whole body going taut from the swells of sensation. Spine arching, thighs tense, he peeks through half-lidded eyes down at his own parted thighs.

Jack's hand curled around his cock, working it up and down. His other hand teasing at the patch of skin where cock meets balls meets thigh, sometimes caressing, sometimes holding the base steady as the other hand massages the head. That's Eric's dick, there, in Jack's hands, and now Jack's running soft fingers over his balls and holy _moly_ , Eric's not going to last very long.

"Thought about this," Jack whispers in his ear. "How you'd feel. The noises you'd make."

He shifts up against Eric, the bulge in his shorts pressing hard against Eric's ass. And he groans. Jack gives an unmistakeable groan of want.

Eric imagines that groan coming from Jack's lips as Eric touches him, making Jack feel half as much as Eric's feeling at this moment. He imagines the two of them face to face, grinding together. He imagines Jack deep inside him, stroking his cock. Eric on all fours, or face up on the bed, or against a wall. Jack above him, behind him, on him. So many images flashing in his mind, jumbling up in a patchwork of erotic fantasy, and any of them are possible, all of them are possible, they're _only just beginning._

Eric comes with Jack's name on his lips, hips snapping up into the air, spine popping with the force of his movement. Flooded, overwhelmed, he strains and gasps and shudders. There's wetness on his stomach and no doubt all over Jack's hand. It's so good, gorgeous, amazing. He leans back against Jack, but no, it's not enough, he needs more. He twists in Jack's lap again until he can reach up and guide Jack's lips to his. The kiss is so sweet and wet, and Jack's licking at him again with a wet tongue.

Dropping his head, Eric kisses Jack's neck. Jack's head tilts back, and he gives a long moan.

"Jack," Eric murmurs against his neck, inspired. "Will you let me do something for you now?"

Jack swears.

Eric giggles. "Is that a yes?"

"What are you going to do?"

Grinning, his body still throbbing a little, Eric eases up onto his knees, then turns to face Jack. "Get up on the chair."

He sees Jack glance at the chair, then at the height at which Eric's kneeling, and Eric is pretty sure he can _see_ Jack's cock jump.

"Go on," he says, brushing his hand over Jack's chest briefly. Jack gets to his feet, then eases onto the cushion, sitting forward with his hands plastered to the edges of the chair's arms.

Eric laughs. "Jack Zimmermann, this isn't going to work if you're wearing pants."

Jack says something in French under his breath, and his hands squeeze the chair arms tight.

Eric looks at him reproachfully, then goes right to his fly. Jack finally gets himself together and helps, wiggling out of his shorts and boxers until they drop to his ankles. It's the first time Eric's seen him up close like this, and it's a sight -- his cock is pink and hard, standing up ramrod-straight. Eric licks his lips. Jack's breath hitches.

Tentatively, Eric curls his fingers around Jack's length. He shouldn't be surprised by any of it, the hardness or the heat, but it's a shock nonetheless. Despite being freshly spent, his own cock jumps just a little.

He takes a few careful strokes.

Jack's reaction is like nothing Eric's ever seen. He reacts like Eric's been working on him for a half hour. His arms are trembling on the chair, his breath going hot and fast like he's jogging. His cock shifts and twitches int Eric's hands.

"Relax," Eric says. "It's just me."

"I _know_ it's you," Jack hisses down at him. His face is red. So's the crown of his cock, so flushed and full, and Eric loses patience. He leans in and closes his mouth around it.

Jack's whole body jerks, his head flying back.

The reaction's amazing, the feel of Jack in Eric's mouth is amazing, and Eric purses his lips, sucks, pushes wet kisses against the tip. Jack makes the best noises, loosely connected moans like the thread of a melody. Eric's never sucked a cock before, doesn't know what feels good, but he's imagined. He circles his tongue around the ridge, flicks up to lick the head, then licks one, two, three stripes down the shaft. Jack groans and _nnngh_ s, and his mighty legs are all tense, thighs parted on either side of Eric and trembling.

"Jack," Eric mumbles against the base of his cock, "let me," and then he throws out words and decides to just do it.

He slides his mouth down over the head of Jack's cock to take in the shaft -- not all of it, he's not ready and not sure he can, but enough -- and lifts a hand to the base to hold it steady. Wow, Jack's _thick_ and long, and Eric has to lift his head. He presses small sucks and licks to his shaft, then tries again, a different angle.

It takes a few tries, but he finds a place where he can get his mouth around Jack without killing his jaw. As he sinks down, Jack moans and lifts a hand to pet at his hair. Eric goes warm all over at the touch. He fastens his lips around Jack's shaft and sucks, sliding up and down, hand pumping a steady rhythm at the base.

And he just _listens_ to the sounds Jack makes. Soft "oh"s, strung together. Hard sounds, like _nngh_ , Jack's tongue pressed up against his lips. Grunts. And once a "Bits -- Bitty -- aah," and Eric swells with pride that his name is on Jack's lips.

He guides Jack's cock forward a tad, deepens the angle, takes in more.

Jack gasps. "Bitty, my God, I can't," he starts, and his voice breaks.

Eric's mouth is too full to respond, but he thinks it. _Don't, Jack, Don't. Just let go. Let me take you there._

Jack's hips are lifting to meet Eric's mouth now, a wild rocking rhythm. It's hard work, but Jack's noises make it all worth it. "Oh, God," he whispers, and "I can't," again, and Eric's name a few more times.

Eric thinks back at him as hard as he can. _Just let me. Jack. Come on. Just let it happen..._

Then all at once Jack's longer and bigger in his mouth somehow. Jack's hips flex, and he gives a shout, and then Eric's mouth is full of salt. At once panicking and exuberant, he hurriedly swallows, once and then twice when his mouth floods again. Jack's hand in his hair is a tight fist. It relaxes gradually, then lets go.

Carefully, when he's sure Jack's done, Eric eases off of him and looks up.

Jack's shoulders are shaking, and his face is turned skyward. His teeth are clenched. His jaw, set. He looks transformed somehow. Moved.

Eric rises and eases into Jack's lap.

"Did that feel good?" he asks, shyly.

Jack shudders all over. "Bitty," he says, then tips his head forward and pulls Eric into a kiss. And yeah, okay, that's a good answer.

Eric's still bare-assed and sticky. "We, uh, probably need to clean up before they get back," he says.

Jack nods, but when Eric tries to get up, Jack lays his hands on Eric's waist and pulls him into a hug. Eric leans on him, and they hold each other, quiet and happy.

"There's so much I want to do," Jack whispers. "So much, and there's no time."

"There'll be time," Eric hears himself say. "We'll make time. Jack, I want -- I want to do it all too. Anything. Everything."

"With me?" Jack says, like he can't quite believe it.

Eric doesn't even try to bite down his smile. "With you."

They make their way upstairs and into the bathroom to clean off, laughing about it as they crowd together into the little room. Back downstairs, and they try to find the spot in the movie where they stopped paying attention and actually watch it this time. Jack sits on the floor this time, and Eric tucks into the space between his legs again. Jack's warm and comfortable, his arms looped around Eric's waist. And when Jack leans back, sleepy, against the easy chair, Eric allows his weight to drop onto Jack and closes his eyes as the credits play.

When they get home, Mama and Coach Bittle sneak down to the basement and find two boys asleep, tangled into each other and drooping against the easy chair. Mama looks at her husband, puts a finger to her lips, and shuttles him back upstairs.


End file.
